


The Dawning

by SophieDoodles



Category: Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: Gen, Realisations, Self examination, Soul-Searching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 18:45:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11191128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophieDoodles/pseuds/SophieDoodles
Summary: Post Hunsford Darcy tries to get Elizabeth out of his mind and fails.





	The Dawning

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short one shot I've been sitting on for ages.

Darcy wearily climbed the stairs of his townhouse up to his bed chamber.  Dismissing his valet after the man had helped him to remove his jacket, he threw himself into the chair by the banked fire.  Lady -’s ball was just the crush he had imagined it would be, full of grasping, gossiping shrews disguised as this season's debutantes. Each _lady_ he danced with had the same conversation, the same coy looks and piercing talons looking to hook into him in anyway possible. One particularly enterprising lady had attempted to lead him into the deserted library with claims of an interesting tresie she had recently read he may be interested in.  He had responded to that with the perfect amount of cold disdain as to persuade her such a scheme did not meet with his approval. After delivering her back to her mother he left the ball and returned home.  No doubt his aunt, Lady -, would be angry with him for his desertion but that was preferable than remaining surrounded by people who claimed their superiority over the lower classes but in truth mock the commandments of the church, the responsibilities of their station and look down on tradesmen who strive to better themselves.  

Each ball, dinner or party he had attended since returning from Kent just proved each of Miss Bennet’s accusations against him, both personally and generally of men of his station. Instead of removing her from his mind, each outing seemed to cement her further in place.  Only she saw him for what he was rather than his name and estate, only she held him accountable for his behaviour and temper, only she made him wish to be better than he was.  Miss Elizabeth Bennet, a lowly gentleman’s daughter with neither fortune or connections, had removed the scales from his eyes.  He had always detested the vulgarities of the Ton and the blatant double standards; anything was acceptable unless you got caught, and even then it was the woman who was judged.  The Ton were not concerned about likeness of character or domestic harmony, they cared only for increasing their wealth and status.  Children were not to be loved and nurtured- they were a continuation of the family line, a necessary evil to be praised and boasted about in triumphs and ignored the rest of the time.  All of this he saw and acknowledged within himself but still he attended events, his club, even in his own behaviour in Hertfordshire he appeared to agree with society's views.  His silence, his inaction, showed him just as guilty as the rest.  Had he not judged the people of Meryton to be below him?  Had he not thought it a degradation to socialise with the people in the small community who welcomed him without question? And yet here were a group of people who supported their neighbours, loved their children and worked hard.  Were these not the true superior class?

A small voice in his head said, “ you are shy amongst strangers and uncomfortable in large groups” but he silenced it harshly.  How could he use that as a defence against his actions?  Had he not been in a large group of strangers this very evening and maintained his manners and civil tongue?  Was Mrs Burton’s suggestion that he dance with her daughters any less forward than Mrs Bennet’s suggestion just because the daughters had fortunes of ten thousand pounds? Indeed not and Mrs Bennet, at least, showed her matching was less mercenary by never speaking politely to him again.  Whereas Mrs Burton never ceased her match making even when he was openly rude to both her and her daughters.

Groaning he put his head in his hands.  He wish he could curse Miss Bennet and be free from her, but he knew that all of this was of his own making.  Even in his letter of explanation he had accused the Bennets of vulgarity and ill manners but how was their behaviour worse than his own family’s?  Had Georgiana not almost eloped with a rake? Was his aunt Lady Catherine de Bourgh not overbearing and uncivil towards anyone she deemed below her? Neither had the excuse of lack of education which could be made for the Bennets.  Even Mr Bennet’s lackadaisical attitude to his estate and family was no worse than the majority of the men in the Ton.  They just happened to be richer or titled. His own uncle Lord - ignored his female offspring leaving them to their mother to educate and parent.  His only interest came in their marriages, if he could secure votes in the Lords with an alliance with some family or other. And yet in this Mr Bennet showed himself a loving parent in not forcing a union between his daughter and his heir.

Standing suddenly he made his way back into his dressing room to the mirror.  He looked at himself, taking in the deep circles around his eyes, the hard line of his mouth and the set of his chin.  Always before he had seen what he wanted to see.  Both in himself and the world.  His father had praised his friendship with Bingley, telling him that the future lay in trade, yet he looked down on those whom he had not even met because of their address and failed to see the double standard. He snorted softly at the irony within his character.  He was exactly as Miss Bennet had painted him: Prideful, arrogant, conceited and unfeeling.

Moving to the bed he sat and slowly seemed to fold in on himself.  This self reproach was worthless if he made no changes in himself and his lifestyle.  He would become the man he had blindly thought himself to be. The man worthy of Miss Bennet, even if he never saw her again.

With this new resolution he undressed, snuffed the candles and crawled into bed.  Finally succumbing to the arms of Morpheus as dawn was breaking.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it. Feedback is always welcome. :)


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